drop everything now
by kelster07
Summary: '"Are you sure you'll be okay? I know the kind of effect I have on people," he jokes. No, she thinks. He has no idea about the kind of effect he has on her.' / Modern day AU.
1. please take the pain away

**author's note:** So, um. This story was inspired from the chorus of _Sparks Fly_, a song by Taylor Swift. The story and chapter titles feature phrases taken from the pool of words in the song, just more… reassembled, by myself to match the plot. Thank you to my amazing beta, PhoenixGrace! Hope you all like it! :)

**disclaimer:** All publicly recognisable characters, plots, vaguely familiar song lyrics and settings belong to their respective owners: Suzanne Collins and Taylor Swift. I do not own the Hunger Games and _Sparks Fly_. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**drop everything now**

By kelster07

Chapter 1: please take the pain away

* * *

Clove is having an awful day.

Her mother was ill so she made her breakfast in bed—hot lemon tea and French toast—which resulted in missing the bus that drove past her house in the morning everyday, at exactly twenty-nine minutes past seven. She'd forgotten to do her history essay the night before and ended up having to hand up a hastily written piece on torn paper. She had tripped over a stray backpack and splattered her lunch all over the cafeteria floor. Her only two friends Glimmer and Cato were both at a modelling workshop a town over, so she kept to herself all day. There was no way she was subjecting herself to Cashmere and her endless chatter about which dress colour made her look fatter. That would have been practically be suicide. But it was a waste after all, though—she had ended up being paired up with her for the chemistry practical.

Her pace fastens as she walks towards the worn down bus sporting ripped adverts for _Mr Minty's Fabulously Fresh Toothpaste_—she missed it this morning and she doesn't want it to happen again. She doesn't know why she's so taut today. Her thoughts are unconnected and disjointed and all over the place—it's almost like someone's pulling on her nerves.

A shove digs deep in her sides and her bag spills open and books fall into puddles on the sidewalk. Of course. Everything just has to go wrong this day, doesn't it? Clove sighs and bends down, reaching for her monster-sized textbooks. At the same time, another tanned arm reaches and she bumps her head. She jumps back, falling hard onto the tarmac.

"Shit. I'm so sor-" she begins to say, scooping up the missing items and gritting her teeth as pain shoots up her side. She feels like crap, she doesn't need anything else today. Her voice breaks when she looks up. Across from her are the most strikingly green eyes she's ever seen. The colour is deep and feels oddly drawn in. He's tall and has a lopsided grin—she doesn't even notice she's holding her breath until he speaks.

"No, it's my fault," he says. As if on a second thought, he adds, "Marvel." He sticks his hand out and helps her up. She rises, a slow flush on her cheeks. He hands her a folder and she has the grace to colour again.

She knows him. She's seen him around at school, running for the track team and as one of the senior debaters. She remembers that he's one of Cato's close friends, but she's never really met him before today. Whispers around say he's nice enough, so she decides not to run away.

The lesser part of her mind tells her to be annoyed. He helped her, and gosh damn it, Clove Sevina definitely does not need anyone's help. She's read and seen enough about those weak girls who have a Superman by their sides. She doesn't need a freaking Superman, she has herself and that's all she'll ever need.

"Thanks," she smiles instead. "I'm Clove. Clove Sevina."

"I know," he says. "I've seen your name and picture in school papers enough times to recognise you in a different life."

She almost scowls—but stops herself at the last second. His comment isn't condescending, unlike the similar ones she gets every other day. It's not her fault she's more gifted than at least half the students in the grade above her. It's really not. Once again, Panem High isn't exactly known for their smarts. Cashmere Pearl is living proof of that.

The bus doors open and she gets in, Marvel trailing closely behind. It's autumn now but it bloody well feels like mid-winter. She's glad, though. She enjoys the sound of rain pattering on the roof as she reads by the fireplace and likes the warmth that spreads from her toes when her dog sleeps by her feet—the latter more than she cares to admit. Outside, wind throttles the glass pane next to her and the rain drizzles down.

They snag two seats near the back and she can't help but notice their closeness. Marvel tells a corny joke which causes Clove to collapse in laughter for six minutes straight. She hasn't laughed so hard in a long time—not since her mother was diagnosed with chronic lymphocytic leukaemia. It breaks the ice a little and they begin to talk. It starts with the weather—she knows it's the most boring topic and that neither care about, so she changes it.

"What plans do you have after school finishes?"

The conversation takes a more personal tone and they talk about everything—sports, subject choices, dream universities, the very uncomfortable topic of past relationships—in which she wins the award for being most prudish—and the future. It's really a scary thing for them to think about. It's almost funny how they're talking like people who've known each other for years, when in reality, they've only properly met a few minutes ago. Clove has never been this open, this soon. She smiles along as he talks, and she's shocked when she realises it's not forced.

It's completely pouring when they get out. She mentally curses for not bringing a sweater when she raises her arms above her head to shield herself from the downpour. They run across the streets—she's having a rotten day, so of course she slips on the grating. Her arms flail as she braces herself for the hard landing.

It doesn't come.

Instead, strong arms wrap go around her waist before she touches the wet sidewalk. She's so genuinely surprised at the action that she stumbles before regaining her balance again. Hell. She doesn't need a bloody Superman, she thinks angrily, but she can't bring herself to reprimand him. She even thinks that maybe- No, that's stupid. She shivers at the very thought.

Marvel notices her and pulls her closer, draping his jacket on top of both of them and an arm around her. An instant burst of warmth spreads through her body at his touch. She's being very, very stupid.

She bites her lip and shivers again, his sudden presence startling her. For some strange reason, she can't tear her eyes from him. The warmth is welcoming, but at the same time a voice screams in her mind to get away, run away. She's never like this. Never. It's like she's stepped out of her own skin and has been forced into someone else's. She never mixes up her thoughts, and she's usually intent on her ways.

The running gives her a sense of rawness and she hasn't felt that feeling in a long time so she laughs—the real, joyful, child-at-a-candy-store kind. Her senses are on high alert as they dart through the storm towards the nearest building. They squish up under the cover and Marvel opens the door to a little bookstore, the first building they come across. They really can't think of anywhere better to go so they enter the homey space.

They find an empty booth across from the full glass window. Cars whiz by in a blur of yellows, blues and blacks and the rain falls harder. There's an awkward silence and she shifts in her seat and adjusts the strap on her backpack—she doesn't know what to say so instead the events of her terrible day float back to her.

"What's wrong?" he asks quietly.

At first she thinks she's misheard him. No. No one could possibly care or even notice her.

"What's wrong?" he repeats a bit louder, face concerned.

She realises that he is asking the question. She's not imagining it. And somehow, she just lets it all out. She doesn't know him well, but for some reason, she feels like she trusts him.

And it scares her like crazy.

"I've had an utterly horrible day today," she starts. She looks up and he's nodding, but staying silent. Damn those green eyes. She can't control her emotions and they come crushing down on her.

She tells him about her terrible day and she can't stop—it's like someone or something has taken over her mind. She tells him absolutely everything—even about her mother who she never talks about—not even with Glimmer. And he listens. He doesn't interrupt and for that she's grateful. They do their homework and she finds out that they have a fair number of classes together, something she hasn't noticed before. She helps him with his calculus and in return he helps her to find herself. It's not a fair trade, she notes. She owes him. The storm outside gets worse and lightning streaks are lighting up the sky so they stay in the small café and she doesn't object sharing a small soy latte—her guilty pleasure.

He laughs again at something she said and she can't help letting a stray giggle out herself even though she knows it's lame. It's almost as if it's contagious, she thinks.

She ignores the funny feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Night is falling when they pack their books and leave the small shop.

"Do you want me to walk you back?" he asks. It's late and she knows he just wants to get home and congratulate his sister on winning spelling bee earlier that day.

"No, it's fine. My house is only a few blocks away from here anyway," she says.

"Are you sure you'll be okay? I know the kind of effect I have on people," he jokes.

No, she thinks. He has no idea about the kind of effect he has on her.

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**author's note:** Ooh, Clove's already sucked in. Aren't they cute? #youknowyouloveclarvel

The second chapter should be up within a week. Please review? It would make my day. I love all feedback, so anything at all is definitely appreciated. Oh, and happy Valentine's Day! What did you all get up to? x


	2. you've got me in reckless captivity

**author's note:** Thank you to everyone who read/reviewed/favourited/followed last chapter! I seriously feel like the happiest girl in the world. And a massive thank you to my beta, PhoenixGrace! Hope you all like this. :)

**disclaimer:** All publicly recognisable characters, plots, vaguely familiar song lyrics and settings belong to their respective owners: Suzanne Collins and Taylor Swift. I do not own the Hunger Games and _Sparks Fly_. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**drop everything now**

By kelster07

Chapter 2: you've got me in reckless captivity

* * *

"Clo." Cato nudges her elbow. "What on earth are you looki-"

There's a slight pause and Clove immediately averts her gaze to the unappealing garden salad in front of her. Cato's eyes follow the trail her eyes led just a split second ago.

"Oh," he says. There's a growing smile on his face. Bloody wanker, she thinks darkly. "Since when did _you_ even _care_ about Marvel?"

"What?" A high-pitched shriek is heard and simultaneously a fork clashes against a lunch tray. Clove winces. Glimmer grins sheepishly and picks it back up.

"You know, that makes me sound so heartless," Clove says.

"Stop avoiding the question," Glimmer demands and she almost groans. Of course both of her closest friends just _had_ to gang up on her.

"We met the other day," she says weakly. She doesn't even know what's going on herself. She wishes she does.

Glimmer snorts. "Met?"

She nods and takes another bite of the salad. She scrunches up her nose in distaste—Clove is proud to say she's got a strong stomach, but this—this just takes the goddamn cake.

"I don't believe you," Cato states. "There's something more. There has to be, he's been talking about you all week."

She resists the temptation to jump out of her seat and endlessly question him. He talks about me? There's a bright feeling inside of her, as much as she pushes it away. Clove relents—just a little. "We're kind of friends."

It's as close to the truth as she can get.

"Kind of friends. That's descriptive," Glimmer smirks.

Clove honestly doesn't know what else to say. On that rainy day by the bus stop, she admits that he was something different. There was something about him that had made her take a second glance. There was something about him made her let him in. But what kind of different, she doesn't know. At all.

"Friends? I don't believe you," Cato says, crossing his arms. "Clove Sevina does not mentally undress people with her eyes that are _just_ friends."

"What? I was not 'mentally undressing' him, as you so elegantly put it," Clove shoots back, scowling at him. Inside, her stomach squirms. She knows better than to deny the fact that Marvel's bad looking—he's not—and for some reason she almost wishes he was. Then she wouldn't be forced into this conversation, and everything would be much, much easier. She knows that girls swoon over him—almost as much as they do over high school legend Gale Hawthorne, and of course, Cato Hadley—so she can't help feeling somewhat jealous. No, she quickly thinks, cutting her mindless thoughts off. Clove Sevina is _definitely_ not jealous.

"I don't like him."

"Sure."

"I don't, trust me. I just…" she mentally curses at herself, "I don't even know anymore."

"Honey, that's liking someone," Glimmer says with her mock-sweet smile.

"No, it isn't," Clove argues, turning around.

Across from her Cato wears a strange look on his face. The edges of his lips tilt upwards until he's practically beaming. She hears sudden hushed whispers in the cafeteria and almost rolls her eyes. Girls. Seriously, what's wrong with them? She knows that her best friend is attractive—she really does—but she's never understood the school-wide female infatuation with him.

His grin is so wide, she takes another look. The image is engrained in her head. No, that can't be right, she thinks. That's not one of Cato's 'let's-make-girls-swoon-at-me' smile. That's his 'I-know-something-you-don't' smile.

She doesn't even want to know.

* * *

**author's note:** I have to admit, this chapter originally wasn't supposed to actually be published. But then I thought this would piece the previous and next chapter together better, kind of like peanut butter and jelly between two slices of plain bread. Which, let me tell you, I've never had before. Sad, I know.

Anyway, consider this as a sort of preamble for next chapter, which will be the final one. I would absolutely love it if you could leave a review, they're always highly appreciated. Give me your thoughts! Thumbs up or thumbs down? :)


	3. meet me in the pouring rain

**author's note:** Thank you for all your wonderful reviews and support! PhoenixGrace, you have been an awesome beta. This is the last chapter of this story, so please enjoy! :)

**disclaimer:** All publicly recognisable characters, plots, vaguely familiar song lyrics and settings belong to their respective owners: Suzanne Collins and Taylor Swift. I do not own the Hunger Games and _Sparks Fly_. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**drop everything now**

By kelster07

Chapter 3: kiss me in the pouring rain

* * *

Clove is having an awful day.

Her mother's health is quickly dwindling and she hates that she can't do anything about it. It makes her feel helpless, useless. She missed the bus in the morning and ended up walking to school in the wind, arriving half an hour late and with messy hat hair—caused without a hat, which made it even worse—and had to walk up in front of the school for prize-giving. She almost failed her killer English exam and forgot to bring her lunch. Glimmer and Cato had started dating today—everyone knew it was inevitable—and she knows it's childish but she feels left out. She's happy for them, she really is. Or least, she tries to tell herself that. But she's a good friend and she knows she has no right to interfere. Her own problems don't matter at all.

A year has passed and now Marvel and her are good friends. They've come closer since that day at the bookshop and have come to a point where idle touches, lingering glances and random laughs can go unquestioned. They're friends and Clove can't stop wishing it was more, but she'll never admit it. She knows what it's like to depend on someone. Rely on them. And she hates it so she stays away from him.

This week she's seen him with another girl. She doesn't know who she is, but she has blonde hair, a slim figure, perfectly blue eyes and is absolutely drop-dead stunning. It makes her feels worse about her plain brown hair, short limbs and distasteful freckles. She hasn't spoken to him in exactly five days—it's a long time for their standards—and she doesn't plan on doing so anytime soon.

She walks over to the lifeless bus stop, but she's pushed over and the groceries in her arm go flying out. She grabs them quickly but at the same time another arm reaches down. Their fingers touch and Clove jumps—it's like she's a kid again and has been touched by someone who's rubbed their feet one too many times on the carpet—and she feels sparks fly.

She looks up and almost gasps as she sees the strikingly green eyes that could only belong to one person. So much for a cool composure. She scrambles backwards and snatches the bottle of milk he's holding and steps onto the bus before he can say a word.

The bus is full except for two seats near the back. She contemplates standing but she know it's ridiculous and won't give her a reprieve anyway.

"Hey. What's up?"

His voice is sincerely concerned when he takes the seat next to her. She doesn't say anything yet; just watches the rain drops trickling down the window. The weather almost worse than this time last year. It's below freezing today and she's forget her swear again. She won't accept his, though, no good can come from it so she and shivers against the cold.

"Hi," she says blankly after contemplating every possible reason not to.

She really can't help that her words come out clipped and short.

"How was your day?" The edges of his lips crinkle upwards and she curses at herself when something inside of her melts. It's not fair, how much he has a hold over her—and hell, he doesn't even know it.

"Fine."

The banter goes on like this. If he notices her cold shoulder he doesn't say anything, and for that she's grateful. He's always been like this—sensing the people around him and she loves it. Then she remembers that she can't have him because she's not blonde and beautiful and she's not the girl he's been seeing more and more of. Wishful thinking won't turn into reality, she knows. But for now, she lets go off all grudges and simply enjoys his presence. When he's around, it's like all her walls come crashing down and their quiet conversation is the only thing that exists in the universe. She's happy. Until the bomb drops.

"What? Got a special girl?" Every time she laughs and jokes around with him he feels a dagger wrench deeper in her heart. She feels like she's digging her own grave.

The conversation takes a more dire tone and she holds her breath as he runs his fingers through his sandy brown hair and sighs, "Yeah."

She tries her hardest to hide her disappointment because she knows what's coming.

"I know this girl and she's beautiful—both inside and out, hell, she's perfect. But-"

She knows who he's talking about. She doesn't know why she let herself fantasize about such impossible things in the first place. In the of her mind, she always knew this would happen but she didn't expect it to be so soon. She swears on her life that it won't happen again and she'll try her darn hardest to let go of all strings.

Clove Sevina doesn't need to hear about his Miss Perfect. She's already had the worst day and now this? She can't look at him without feeling a slap on her face. She blinks the tears away and gets off the bus, groceries in hand. The sky is dark and stormy overhead and the rain starts to lightly fall. Clove can't believe she's let herself get this far with him, and she wants to run away from everything. She's stupid. Very, very stupid.

He follows her off into the abandoned car park and she runs faster. It doesn't help—he's on track team and is one of the fastest in his division.

"Clo," he says, but she turns away. She won't let him see her cry, she won't.

"Clo," he tries again. She's stubborn and she can tell he knows she won't budge, even without glancing over her shoulder. But she isn't expecting the hand on her cheek. Cautiously, she turns around, eyes still trained on the ground. Warmth crawls through her body but she feels even worse now. She doesn't need a freaking Superman because she's not like all those other girls. Droplets are spitting everywhere and the rain crashes down on them but she doesn't care—she knows she's being self-centred and selfish and she really doesn't care.

"Clo," he whispers. His hand strokes her cheek and she doesn't notice their closeness until now. "Please. Talk to me. What's wrong?"

His piercing green eyes are only a few centimetres away from her and when she looks up she finally sees them up close. All she sees is goodness. Pure, genuine good, nothing like she's ever seen before. The emerald tone is so vivid she feels like she's falling into an endless abyss.

If only it wasn't so close to the truth.

She isn't used to the intimacy and she pulls away, somehow scared and frustrated and tingling and confused and everything in between. She doesn't like how much she's let him in and she almost regrets that fateful meeting a year ago. Clove hasn't cried in exactly fifteen years—not since her foot was run over by a taxi when she was three—and she's not going to start now.

"Clo. Please," he says again. She forces herself to look up again and they're so close it makes her mind spin in circles. His lips are centimetres away and she can't focus on anything but him. She doesn't notice the rain drenching her dress and she doesn't particularly care either. She can't keep doing this, she thinks. She's not going to last much longer.

On impulse, she stands on her tiptoes—why is he so damn tall?—and presses her lips to his. It's soft and it feels nice, but she just doesn't know-

And then she comes to her senses. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Sorry," she gasps, leaping a metre back as if he's burnt her. She can't believe what she just did and prays that the ground will swallow her up right here and now. She runs back but hears steady footsteps behind her. A storm is brewing and she thinks that it's almost like a metaphor of life right now.

She run across the car park—she's having a rotten day, so of course she slips on the grating. Her arms flail as she braces herself for the hard landing.

It doesn't come.

Instead, strong arms wrap go around her waist before she touches the wet sidewalk. This time, she's not surprised and she doesn't stumble along the pavement. Her eyes go wide and she tries to bolt, but his arm is firmly around her wrist.

"Clo. You do know I was talking about you, right?" he whispers, and she flinches at his touch because she feels electricity shoot up her arm. She only notices now that instead of putting an arm around her, he laces their fingers together. She doesn't expect it when this time he leans in. His hand cups her cheek and she feels like jelly. His lips part slightly and her knees weaken. She can feel him smile and she almost scowls—but stops herself at the last second. He steadies her and she feels the tingling feeling in her stomach spread like wildfire. She wraps her arms around his neck and leans in, deepening the kiss.

It's pouring rain but neither of them care. Maybe it's not the effect he has on her, or the same effect she has on him. Maybe it's the way they look at each other, and maybe it's the way he smiles and she laughs. Maybe it's the way that caramel and biscuit ice cream are both their favourites—as well as soy lattés, or maybe it's the way they're both so different but still the same, as cheesy as it sounds.

Maybe it's just them.

* * *

**author's note:** They. Are. So. Damn. Cute.

Anyway, that's all for this story. Thank you so much for reading this, I honestly cannot express how happy I am towards everyone who's read this. Hope you all liked it, maybe leave a review and give some feedback? Thoughts? Concrit? Anything is welcome! x


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